Monday, October 08, 2007

The Novelty Store-3

At the rate I was traveling I was going to be a basket case by the time I arrived at door number five.

I reached for the door handle, but before opening, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breathe.

I yanked on the knob, which was a bit heavier than the others. The décor of this room was slightly different. The door looked as if it came from a castle in England. The power thud of the door closing echoed through the room with a bomb, which almost scared me out my skin. The chair was similar to an old Victorian seating complete with velvet cushions, distinguished hand crafted armrests, and iron wrought legs.

I made myself comfortable and waited for the show to begin. The lights dimmed and the background was that of a castle with a lowered draw bridge.

“Get the fuck outta here!” I said, giggling.

Before I could contain myself, a woman dressed like a damsel in distress came charging in the room as if a fire-breathing dragon was chasing her. She stood in front of the glass pounding her fist onto the wall. Her tears were ruining her mascara and blush. Her lipstick was smeared and her dressed was torn at the bust line. She clawed at the window, licking her lips at the same time.

“Dayum! This is like a medieval movie in the making,” I said as I draped my purse straps on the arm of the chair.

The woman continued to scratch at the wall when suddenly another person entered the room carrying a sword and dressed in armor.

“Cool!”

The dame pretended to scream and covered her mouth with the back of her hand and then shielded her face as if that was the only way to save her from danger.

The armored guard grabbed her by her curly mane and dragged her to the bridge, where the guard ripped open her dress—exposing her naked body—and held the sword over her. I couldn’t tell if this was a historical rape scene or if it was an act of masochistic dominance. Either way, the plot was on point!

The armored character held the sword to the woman’s neck, which enabled her from moving. The person removed the steel glove. The exposed hand caught my attention because it was too wide in dimension and the muscular tissue was too massive for it to be that of a woman.I sat on the edge of my seat to see what was to come of the dame and the soldier. He placed his hand around her neck and pinned her to the bridge as he removed his silver helmet. He turned and looked at me. My mouth went dry as I stared into the eyes of man who looked to be the twin of Arnold Swarzennager from Conan the Barbarian.

Oh.

My.

God.

Instantly my pussy was on fire.

This man had hair all the way down his back with a black band around his head. His piercing eyes had my name etched in them as his lips were plumped fuller than Angelina Jolie’s after a triple shot of collagen.

I rose from the chair and stood as close to pane as I could. I wanted to see more of him.

“Not her! Me! Me!” I yelled through the window.

I guess he heard me because he removed his hand from her neck and pulled the sword away.

The woman took off running from the set, which left me and Conan alone.

I looked up, then side to side.

“There’s gotta be a door to this sonofabitch! Where the fuck is it?”

Conan tossed his sword to the side, removed his chest armor and tossed it to the floor. I think my coochie had a mind of its own when I couldn’t help but notice that my panties were bunched in between my lips.

This man had muscles er’ where. I mean muscles on top of muscles. Muscles I didn’t know muscles could have. His skin was perfectly bronzed and shiny. Conan looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom and all I wanted was a taste of him. Just one taste. Okay, maybe more than just a taste, more like a three hour sample fest. Was that too much to ask for heaven’s sake?

As I stood at the wall salivating at this gorgeous mold of a man, he stood at the window removing the bottom portion of his armor where my eyes soon discovered his sword size dick with orbs that sagged like two boulders.

Lordhavemercyonmysoul.

Tell me that you’re going to break down this wall and fuck me like a royal princess whose been held captive by the evil warlords, I thought as I watched this man wrap his massive hand around his dragon slayer.

He stroked the shaft with care only to make himself more rigid than my mind could imagine. I reached down and clutched my breasts as he stepped closer to the window. His lips were saying something but I couldn’t make out the words because I was too busy concentrating on the harden meat between his thighs.

Conan tapped on the wall, pulling my eyes away from his heavy genitals. He held up his hands and then formed his fingers against the window.

Eight.

“Eight?” I shrugged. “What does that mean? I know that’s more than eight inches honey. That’s got to be a fifteen or better.”

He shook his head and placed his eight fingers against the glass.

Eight-six-two.

Oh.

My.

God.

It’s his phone number! I snatched my purse away from the armrest, yanked it open and grabbed a pen and an old check stub. I quickly scribbled down the numbers.